


Your Heart is a Storm

by iridiumring92



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Sleeping Together, also he might be a little bit afraid of intimacy, insecure noctis, noctis has kind of a problem with drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridiumring92/pseuds/iridiumring92
Summary: Noctis and Ignis have been seeing each other for a few months now. But they haven't talked about dating exclusively yet, Noct's roommate Prompto has never met Ignis, and Noctis has a few issues of his own that he may or may not be hiding.Noctis is afraid of ruining everything, but Ignis just wants to be there for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _"And you can't save me now_  
>  _I'm in the grip of a hurricane_  
>  _I'm going to blow myself away"_  
>  \- Florence + the Machine
> 
> I started writing this on new year's eve (because I never do anything on new year's eve) with no idea of where it was going or how long it was going to be. so... naturally it escaped my control pretty quick.

Noctis was grateful for the tranquil silence that surrounded the apartment as he arranged himself over Ignis, his knees braced on either side of Ignis’s hips, their bodies nearly as close as possible, sharing warmth on the sofa in the living room. They’d only left one of the lights on, the lamp beside the sofa, and it cast shadows over both of them. Noctis admired the way the light made Ignis’s skin look soft and warm, and he half wished they had moved to his room, so that he could expose more of it. He settled for leaning closer, pressing his lips to the junction between neck and shoulder.

Ignis reached up to push his hands through Noctis’s hair. Noctis turned his head slightly, so that their lips brushed again. His lips parted, and before long it felt as if they were breathing the same air again, Noctis sliding closer to him. His hips pressed hard against Ignis’s, causing Ignis to moan low in his throat, to arch up suddenly and involuntarily.

A key turned in the lock on the front door, which opened a second later. Noctis jerked back as Prompto walked in, keys in one hand, his other hand dragging through his hair when he caught sight of the two of them—Ignis lying back on the sofa, and Noctis kneeling over him, both of them entangled and disheveled. Prompto blinked. Noctis swore under his breath. He pushed himself off Ignis, who hastily buttoned his shirt back up.

Prompto cleared his throat as he walked past the living room to the kitchen. “So, Noct,” he said, the tension clear in his voice, “mind introducing me? You two seem pretty well acquainted.” Noctis didn’t answer at first, and the sound of Prompto setting his keys down on the counter cut the silence between the three of them. “Is—is he the one you’ve been telling me about?”

Noctis and Ignis were both sitting upright on the sofa now, shoulders touching, Noctis with his legs tucked under him and Ignis with his feet braced against the floor, looking as if he were preparing to make his escape on the shortest of notices. “Um, yeah, sure. This is Ignis, my—well. Um.” He stopped for a moment, feeling heat creep across his face. What exactly _were_ they? He wasn’t about to call Ignis his boyfriend, it wasn’t like they’d had that discussion yet, but at the same time, if he said _friend_ , Prompto would no doubt give him hell later. _Friend? So the kind with benefits?_ “Ignis, this is Prompto, my roommate.”

“My apologies,” Ignis said. “That we’ve had to meet this way.”

Noctis had to stop himself from turning to give him an incredulous look. The tension in the room was tangible, thick and sticky as a web, and somehow he still managed to say something as smooth and intelligible as that. He wanted to hide behind Ignis a little.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Prompto said. “It’s just that I wasn’t really prepared.” He cleared his throat again, and Noctis saw that he was uncomfortable, that he didn’t want to have this conversation, either.

“We can, uh—we can move to my room,” Noctis said to him. “I—we’ll be quiet.” He felt Ignis look at him, saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling his face warm again. “That’s not what I meant.”

Prompto laughed, a sound that was half anxious and half surprised. “I got you, Noct. I’ll be in my room anyway, so it doesn’t matter to me.”

He disappeared into the hallway, taking his keys with him and leaving Noctis and Ignis alone.

Noctis turned and pressed his face into Ignis’s shoulder. “I fucked that up.”

“Yes,” Ignis agreed, kissing him on the cheek, “but it happens.”

“Not helpful,” Noctis said, shoving him lightly. He dropped his voice. “Do you still want to stay the night?”

“Of course I do.” Ignis’s hand slid down Noctis’s side, his fingertips finding the line of skin between the hem of his shirt and his jeans. “Shall we move to your room, then?”

With a deep breath, Noctis nodded, and Ignis stood from the sofa, offering his hand for Noctis to take. They moved through the apartment, down the hall, shutting the door to Noctis’s room behind them.

They’d done this enough times that it had become routine, unspoken, a dance they both knew by heart. Ignis flipped on a light and closed the curtains on the window, and Noctis stripped off the clothes he didn’t want to sleep in. Ignis usually brought clothes, one set of which he changed into before they went to bed. Noctis slid beneath the sheets and waited for Ignis, who finished changing and switched the light back off before joining him. Their bodies even curved together the same way, without any awkwardness.

But the first time, it had been different. They’d both been uncertain about the terms of their first shared night together, whether it meant sleep or something else. Ignis had gone down the hall to the bathroom, returning only to walk in on Noctis undressing. Noctis had been wearing next to nothing. He’d been terrified and embarrassed, somehow, about this, and he’d felt heat flare into his cheeks.

“Do you intend to take me to bed?” Ignis had asked, very deliberately. “Should I clean up?”

“What—oh no no, I—that’s—I was just—”

“We can do whatever you want, Noct,” Ignis had said, quietly, leaning a little against the door frame. “It’s all right.”

“No,” Noctis had answered, though the prospect of actually taking Ignis to bed, of feeling Ignis’s bare skin hot against his and hearing the sounds they might make together, had him feeling more aroused than he wanted to admit. “That’s not what—I’m not ready. I just want sleep.” He looked at the floor. He’d spoken those words too quickly, he thought, and too harshly, and now Ignis would be upset with him.

But he’d said, “That’s what I want, as well.”

Even though months had passed since that night, they still hadn’t had their first time, though they’d come close. And while Noctis had been to Ignis’s place a couple of times, Ignis claimed that it was too cold and impersonal, and that he liked Noctis’s better. In this way they’d fallen into a sort of routine. Ignis seemed not to desire change, while Noctis was too afraid to make another move.

“About earlier,” Noctis began now, but Ignis murmured, “Shhh, Noct,” and pressed lips, softly, to the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ignis continued. “I could have stopped it, as well. You shouldn’t blame yourself. In any case, your roommate didn’t seem quite as put off as I expected.” He rested an arm across Noctis’s waist. “You should get some sleep.”

Noctis rolled over to face him, sliding out from under his arm. “Will you kiss me?”

“Noct, if I kiss you, I may well not be able to stop—”

“Please,” Noctis breathed, moving closer.

He closed his eyes, and a moment later, he felt Ignis’s mouth brush against his own. Their kisses deepened, and for a heartbeat Noctis wanted—well, he wanted more than just this. His hands slid under Ignis’s shirt, across his flat stomach and up to his chest. Ignis made a low sort of _Ah_ sound, a sigh or a moan or both, and Noctis felt his fingers drag across his scalp, through his hair.

But as Noctis had predicted, their movements soon made him sleepy, and he felt himself going limp in Ignis’s arms. Ignis just pulled him close and kissed his hair.

“Sleep well, Noct,” he whispered.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry about yesterday,” Noctis said to Prompto in the kitchen the next afternoon, his hair mussed and his eyes still bleary with sleep. He was in a T-shirt and sweatpants. Ignis had left hours ago for work, and Noctis had spent those hours with the sheets pulled tight around him, wishing for his warmth.

Prompto moved to the counter where Noctis stood and picked up the carton he’d set out. “Orange juice,” he said when Noctis looked at him quizzically. “You don’t want that in your cereal, trust me, Noct.”

Noctis sighed. “What would I even do without you, Prompto.”

“Dunno. Probably eat some pretty terrible food.” Noctis shot him a glare, though he suspected it looked more tired than anything else, and Prompto smiled and shrugged, an expression that came off almost halfhearted. “And it’s fine. About last night, I mean. I just thought—” And here he broke off.

“Thought what?”

“Well,” Prompto began again, looking uncomfortable, “I didn’t realize that your, uh—that you didn’t—” He gestured with a hand. “That you were dating a _guy._ ”

Noctis’s cheeks blazed with heat. He knew his face had gone a deep shade of red.

“It’s fine,” Prompto said hastily, “I don’t mind or anything, you just never s—I didn’t know.”

“I mean, I like girls, too,” Noctis said, looking down at the counter. He wanted to crawl under the kitchen table. “But Ignis is . . .” He trailed off.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Well, no.” Noctis shifted a little. “We haven’t really talked about that, but. Well.”

“But you’ve been sleeping with him and you looked like you were about to bang him on the sofa yesterday?” A half-grin tugged at Prompto’s mouth.

“What? No!” Noctis exclaimed.

“Hey, I get it. Just make sure you’re quiet when I’m here,” Prompto teased him. “And safe.”

Noctis groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Prompto walked back over to the fridge. “No, but really, Noct, ask him to be your boyfriend. You two were cute together,” he said, shutting the door and placing something on the counter in front of Noctis. He grinned when Noctis shot him a confused look. “That’s the milk. You’re welcome. Anyway, I gotta go clock in soon, so think about it.” With that, he grabbed his keys and his coat and headed out, leaving Noctis to try and sleepily process his advice.


	2. Chapter 2

Noctis worked nights, mixing drinks at a rather busy bar downtown. He didn’t spend those nights with Ignis, even if he’d spent the hour after his shift ended getting wasted and needed a ride home or a closer place to stay. Usually he called Prompto or asked one of his coworkers to drive him back. He didn’t want to inconvenience or embarrass Ignis.

But on some of those nights, the need that Noctis felt for him was so strong, he had to convince one of his coworkers to take away his phone before he did anything irreversibly stupid. He usually woke up with a headache the next evening when Prompto got back from work, and couldn’t remember where the hell his phone was.

That night was one of those nights, though over twenty-four hours had passed since the awkward situation with Ignis, and twelve since his conversation with Prompto. _I didn’t realize you were dating a guy. Ask him to be your boyfriend._ Noctis didn’t remember half of what he’d even done, or how many drinks he’d had, but he woke up later to the sound of the front door closing and—when he reached drowsily over to the bedside table—he realized he had no goddamn idea where his phone was. Finding it meant getting up. Noctis considered pulling the sheets over his head and going back to sleep, but instead he rolled out of bed, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and stumbled out into the hallway.

Yep. A headache. Might as well look for a couple of Tylenol while he was at it.

“Prompto?” he called.

His roommate appeared in the hallway, coming from the kitchen. “What’s up, Noct?” he asked, but his expression changed when he saw Noctis. “One of those nights again?”

“Uh, yeah. You seen my phone?”

“It’s right here. On the table,” Prompto said. “There’s a note on it, too.”

Squinting against the lights in the kitchen, Noctis moved to the table and picked up his phone. Someone had put a sticky note on the screen.

It read, _You should probably talk to him about dating exclusively tbh. Whoever he is. :)_

“Fucking . . .” Noctis held up the sticky note to show Prompto, who was standing at the counter and pretending he hadn’t seen anything. “This wasn’t _you_ , was it?”

“Nooope. That was there when I left this morning,” Prompto answered. “Besides, I know who he is, so I wouldn’t have written that last part. Do you have to go back to work again tonight? You look—”

“Like shit, I know. And yeah, I’m working the rest of this week.”

“So no talks about dating exclusively until Saturday?” The teasing note in Prompto’s voice was all too obvious.

“Yeah, whatever.” Noctis rubbed his eyes. “I need to shower and take some Tylenol. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Noct,” Prompto said, and when Noctis looked over his shoulder, he saw that all the teasing was gone. The expression on Prompto’s face was tense and worried. For a second, Noctis thought he was going to say something profound about how getting plastered all the time wasn’t good for him and he should find a healthier way to deal with his feelings. “If you need anything to eat, I put some leftovers in the fridge.”

“See how it goes,” Noctis muttered, thinking that it might take an actual miracle to get him to eat, with how he currently felt. He disappeared into the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

When he arrived at work later that night, Noctis brought his phone with the sticky note still attached. A few of his coworkers were standing around, some of them on break and some of them having just clocked in, and Noctis strode toward a pair of them. The two of them looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

“Who wrote me this note?” Noctis demanded.

“You have to ask?” Beside him, Crowe smiled with one side of her mouth. “I was sitting right next to you.”

“I mean, he _was_ pretty trashed,” Nyx answered. “Had his head on my shoulder the entire time.”

“Whatever.” Noctis shook his head. “What did I even say? I’m pretty sure I’ve never mentioned him to you guys.”

The two of them exchanged looks. “You said he was . . . _suave_ , I think was the word. And _beautiful_ ,” Crowe recounted.

“Also way out of your league,” Nyx added.

Noctis narrowed his eyes. “Wait, did _I_ say that, or is that a criticism?”

“You said you weren’t sure if you were dating him yet,” Crowe added. “Even though I think you also mentioned that you slept with him a few months ago? So yeah, you might want to get that straightened out.”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Noctis said, passing a hand through his hair. He could feel tension already creeping into his shoulders, like when he’d just gotten off a long shift and needed a break more than anything in the world. “Not like _that_.”

“I’d say it’s your business, not mine,” Nyx said, “but apparently it _is_ our business now, since you took it upon yourself to tell us.”

Noctis groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead. Crowe clapped a hand on his shoulder, smiling sympathetically at him. “Hey, we can talk about this later, if you’ve still got a bone to pick, but right now we need to clock in.”

Reluctantly, Noctis agreed, and she turned to leave, Nyx following behind. Noctis moved to hang up his coat. Whether he stayed mad at them or not, he decided, Crowe was probably right. He needed to talk to Ignis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was kind of a short one, a bridge to the next chapter. I promise the next one will be longer ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI EVERYBODY SORRY IT'S BEEN 6 MONTHS RIP.
> 
> also I've been getting tumblr notifications that last week was NSFW Ignoct Week. so I mean... here's this chapter I guess.

The rest of the week dragged by. Ignis texted Noctis a couple of times a day, and every time he had to compose an answer, Noctis felt his heart in his throat, his pulse pounding. He’d had to break the news early in the week that he was working every day until Saturday. With their schedules not matching up, and neither of them really having time to hold a full-on conversation over text messages, the exchanges were short. Still.

_Good morning, Noct,_ Ignis texted on Wednesday afternoon. _How are you feeling?_

Noctis felt his cheeks warm at the first message, a sign that Ignis knew his schedule pretty well now. Ignis had likely already been awake for ten or so hours. And the second message was one he didn’t know how to answer. He’d felt kind of shitty since trying to sleep off what he’d done earlier in the week, but he wasn’t about to tell Ignis that story. _I’m okay, you?_

_Good. I’m looking forward to seeing you._

Seeing this message, Noctis swallowed hard. _You, too,_ he wrote back. His message wound up ending their conversation for the day.

On Saturday, Noctis woke up mid-afternoon to a call from Ignis. He was still groggy, but he hadn’t stayed up drinking after he got off work, so the feeling came without the headache and nausea and the urge to pull the covers over his head. He rolled over and hit the answer button on his phone.

“Hey.”

“Noct? It’s me,” Ignis said, sounding ridiculously awake and composed. “Would you want to come over tonight?”

“Sure.” Noctis’s voice came out sounding surprised, and he wished it hadn’t. He tried to recover. “What’s the occasion? I thought you liked my place better.”

“I do, but . . . since we crossed paths with your roommate last time, I thought it might be better to . . . have some privacy.”

_Privacy._ Shit. Noctis had been preparing himself for this talk about dating, letting it scare the shit out of him actually, and now Ignis was saying they needed a space with more _privacy._ Did he mean he wanted to have sex? Suddenly Noctis couldn’t breathe, they hadn’t even talked about _dating exclusively,_ like Crowe had written on that note, and he wondered if he was being used. Maybe Ignis had other people, people who didn’t just sleep beside him but attended to his needs, who gave him what he wanted. Maybe Ignis had just been holding out on him, waiting for him to finally initiate things on one of those nights, and since he hadn’t . . . Was he that stupid? Had he let Ignis string him along all this time?

“Noct?”

“Oh. Um, yeah.” Noctis cleared his throat, an attempt to recover. “I feel kind of bad about last time, so, yeah. I think that’d be a good idea.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a hand to his forehead. Sure, if Ignis really wanted to, maybe he’d do it, but . . . He was scared. He was scared, and he couldn’t deny it, not to himself. He’d never actually been intimate with anyone before, not like that, and he worried that he wouldn’t know what to do, that he would screw something up. And besides, Ignis was _perfect._ Noctis wasn’t sure about how he looked under his clothes. He’d been teased on occasion about being scrawny, and he felt the same doubt all the time when he looked in the mirror. What if Ignis didn’t . . .

“. . . still there?” Ignis’s voice was asking on the other end of the line. “Noct?”

“Sorry,” Noctis sighed. His face burned. “Not awake yet.”

“Will you meet me here after seven?” Ignis asked. “Will you have had enough time to sleep then?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Noctis forced himself to focus on taking deep breaths. “I’ll see you then.”

Ignis agreed, and told Noctis to get some more sleep before he ended the call. Noctis put his phone back on the table beside his bed and buried his face in his pillow. His anxieties over the whole conversation continued to weigh on him, until he drifted back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

He was back in Ignis’s apartment just after seven, when the skies were darkening, the air growing colder. Despite Ignis’s claims that his apartment was too impersonal, Noctis thought, there was something stylish and impressive about it. The leather sofas, and the décor that all matched. And the low lights at this hour, damn. Noctis decided he’d be surprised if Ignis hadn’t brought his other lovers back here, just like this. He steeled himself for the conversation he knew he had to initiate.

They were in the living room, and Ignis had offered to pour him a glass of wine, which Noctis had accepted. As Ignis lifted his own glass to his lips, Noctis began, “So, um. I—I have something I need to ask you about. If that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

“Are, um—are you—seeing anyone else? A-and am I your boyfriend?” _Fuck_ , that had come out way wrong. Noctis already wished he could take the words back.

Ignis smiled, as if he didn’t know how hard Noctis’s heart was thumping in his chest. And as if he didn’t know that the expression drew Noctis’s eyes to his lips. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else, Noct,” he said. “And if that’s what you want to be to me, absolutely.” He reached out to take Noctis’s hand, gently. “I just wasn’t certain you wanted to.”

“Of course I want to,” Noctis said. He was practically shaking with relief. He reached for his glass of wine and took a long drink, hoping it wouldn’t make his trembling hands evident. “H-how is it that you’re not seeing anyone else? I mean, you’re—” He broke off, gestured helplessly with his free hand.

“I’m what, Noct?”

There it was again, that smile. Noctis resisted the urge to take another sip of his wine, though he needed it to steady him. “Like _that_ ,” he said. “You know. Smooth and—and really irresistible when you—look at me like that.” Shit. He’d really dug himself a hole now, and he wasn’t even tipsy. He could feel his cheeks heating again. “And you have a really nice apartment. Besides, you’re good at—” He stopped. He wasn’t helping himself at all, only digging deeper.

“At?” Ignis asked. He sipped from his own glass, and Noctis tried as hard as he could not to let his gaze drift to his lips again.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Noctis finally said, dropping his gaze. He sulked, taking a sip of his wine.

“I’m not,” Ignis said gently, moving closer to kiss Noctis’s cheek. “I just wanted to let you finish.”

Noctis turned his eyes back up to Ignis’s, slowly. “You’re really not sleeping with anyone else?”

“Of course not,” Ignis said. “I want _you_ , Noctis Caelum. That’s why I brought you here.”

_Oh._

“Come closer?” Ignis asked, gesturing to the space beside him. Noctis nodded.

Despite everything, Noctis couldn’t deny that the warmth of Ignis’s body was comforting. And—if he was honest with himself—a little arousing, too. As he continued to refill his wine glass, accepting occasional kisses from Ignis, he kept debating whether he wanted to fall asleep in Ignis’s arms, or pull Ignis down on top of him.

Maybe both.

“So . . .” he began, the wine having dulled his senses and warmed him from the inside, “do you want to . . . go to bed?”

Ignis swallowed, and Noctis watched his throat bob, watched his lips twitch.

“Yes, I do,” he said in a low voice. “But only if this is what you want. You’ve nothing to prove to me.”

Noctis leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Ignis’s lips, which tasted of wine, and let his fingers thread in Ignis’s hair. “It’s what I want,” he whispered.

Ignis kissed him again and took his hand, drawing him up from the sofa. A few steps later, they stood in Ignis’s bedroom, with the door shut behind them.

The room was scarcely lit, with one lamp beside the bed taking on the entire task itself, and the low light cast shadows over both of them. Pulling Noctis closer, Ignis dipped his head and let their lips brush. The kisses started out gentle and soft, becoming rougher and more desperate with every heartbeat that passed, so that Noctis was gasping for breath, his hands fisted in the fabric of Ignis’s shirt.

He felt Ignis’s hands at the hem of his own shirt. And he became suddenly, dizzily aware of himself, the sounds he had been making, the realization that Ignis was going to see him undressed. As Ignis drew his shirt up over his head, hands brushing against Noctis’s chest, Noctis moved stiffly in response.

“Noct,” Ignis began, noticing his hesitation. “Are you all right? Do you want to stop?”

“No, I—” He looked down at himself. At his bony chest and slim arms. He wanted to say nothing was wrong, but he couldn’t just let this go. Couldn’t shake the earlier thought that he was in danger of being used, or the idea that Ignis wouldn’t appreciate the sight of him, undressed. “C-can you even look at me? I mean, it’s just—you’re perfect, but I look like _this_ and—”

Ignis swept in and kissed his mouth, to keep him from saying any more. “Noct.” He let his hands trace Noctis’s shoulders, then his chest, following paths down to his hips. “You’re beautiful.” He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to Noctis’s collarbone. “I could never feel any differently.”

Noctis could feel Ignis’s breath on his skin. He reached over, carefully, to undo the buttons of Ignis’s shirt, letting the fabric drop to the floor. When Ignis’s mouth met his, the heat from their bare skin, the touch of his hands, made Noctis shiver.

Ignis led him toward the bed, laying him down, bending over him and whispering in his ear. “If you want me to stop, Noct, tell me.”

“Yeah,” Noctis breathed. He didn’t think at first that he would be able to tell Ignis to stop, that he could ever want Ignis to stop, but Ignis undid the button on his jeans and slid them off and suddenly, legs bare, he felt his fear returning. As Ignis collected a couple of things from one of the small tables beside the bed and slid out of his own jeans, Noctis felt his heart hammering in his chest, despite the calming influence of the wine and Ignis’s reassurances.

“Is this all right?” Ignis’s voice whispered in his ear, his body bent over Noctis’s, as he slipped two fingers beneath his waistband.

Noctis gave himself two breaths before he said, “Yes.” Moments later, his body was completely bare, even more exposed than he had been that night Ignis walked in on him. He was certain he would have been shaking if not for the wine. And besides, his body was, well, responsive. When Ignis dropped a hand to stroke him, once, almost experimentally, he tipped his head back with an unexpected cry.

Ignis sat back to remove the rest of his clothes, and Noctis couldn’t help but watch him. He felt his insecurities fluttering in the pit of his stomach—Ignis might’ve said he couldn’t feel differently, but that was while he was still half-dressed, what about the rest of him—and tried to distract himself. It wasn’t hard, seeing Ignis kneeling on the bed in front of him. But he still had to remind himself to breathe.

Ignis paused a moment to prepare, and when he had finished, he pushed Noctis’s legs apart, gently, hands lingering on his thighs. Noctis felt his fingers there, hesitant, pressing. He gasped and turned his head sideways into the sheets. Feeling Ignis’s hands on him like this, he had to bite his lip hard to keep from embarrassing himself. No one else had ever . . .

There was another pressure between his thighs, stopping his train of thought. He drew in a sharp breath, and later, Ignis started to move against him, the sensation so overwhelming that Noctis lost his grip and moaned. Loudly.

“Noct—did I hurt you? Are you going to be all right?” Ignis asked, breathless already.

“I’m fine,” Noctis gasped. “Don’t stop.”

He was grasping handfuls of the sheets, biting his lips to keep from crying out, but Ignis turned his head to whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to try so hard,” he said. “Your voice is lovely.”

Noctis let out another breath, fighting to keep himself together as Ignis moved. He was losing control fast, his body aching for release. And besides, Ignis knew exactly what he was doing. Noctis felt another sound tear from his throat, desperate, followed by Ignis’s name. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Ignis.

Unable to endure it anymore, Noctis reached to relieve his ache, but Ignis caught his hand. “I’ve got you,” he said, softly.

A heartbeat later he felt Ignis’s hand on him, moving in steady strokes, and he lost it, begging and gasping Ignis’s name, until he went over the edge. His back arched up off the bed. Even though he knew his own voice was dominating the silence, he heard Ignis moan low in his throat, too, likely a sign that he was nearing his limit.

Noctis let himself fall back into the sheets as Ignis continued, his hips rocking, his mouth pressing against Noctis’s collarbone, against his neck. He felt teeth on his skin just as Ignis finished, his body going rigid against Noctis’s, a desperate moan of Noctis’s name escaping him. He collapsed on top of Noctis.

Noctis could feel his labored breathing, the pulse of his heartbeat. He let one of his hands drift to Ignis’s back, tracing the line of his spine. Ignis hummed and buried his face against Noctis’s neck.

“Noct,” he murmured. “You feel so good.”

Noctis closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. His heart was racing, he could feel every inch of Ignis’s warm body against his, and of course, what they’d just done had rendered him completely speechless. The sheer shock of the sensations he’d felt was starting to wear off, leaving him with the pleasant ebb and flow of the aftermath.

He might have fallen asleep like that if Ignis hadn’t moved to stand, to clean up. Noctis roused himself enough to follow suit, even though his legs felt weak. When they had finished, Ignis climbed back into bed, pulling Noctis with him.

“How are you feeling?” Ignis asked once they lay together, their bodies aligned. “Everything all right?”

“Better than all right, I think.” Noctis rolled over and took Ignis’s face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. Ignis returned the kiss, and they spent the next few minutes tending only to each other’s mouths and skin and hands, their touches lingering, kisses short and soft. Noctis felt himself falling toward sleep, and he turned over again, his movements lethargic but certain. His body fit against Ignis’s the way it always had.


End file.
